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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771301">A gift and A curse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookluvr3/pseuds/Bookluvr3'>Bookluvr3</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dark, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Memory Loss, Possession</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:21:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookluvr3/pseuds/Bookluvr3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a bad case that ended with the death of three children, Dean starts having nightmares. That he doesn't remember. Things go from bad to worse when he starts sleepwalking. Sam is doing everything he can to help his brother. He thinks is stress but it's something much much worse. Not only does he have to save his life, his soul hangs in the balance too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Call</p><p> </p><p>                           Chapter 1</p><p> </p><p>Sam is blinking his way back to awareness. He's not sure why he woke up. Then he hears it. A low and unintelligible muttering. </p><p>It's coming from his left. </p><p><em>Dean</em>...</p><p>Sam turns on the lamp next to him and sits up.</p><p>Dean is twitching, muttering and jerking about in his sleep. It almost looks like he is having a fit. Sam can't decide if he should wake him or let him be. Sounds like a very bad dream.</p><p>He's talking, muttering and mumbling mostly. Stuff that Sam can't quite make out. He is still considering his choices when suddenly his brother yells out in a pleading voice. </p><p>"No! Please, no!" He's screaming and struggling to get away from someone—perhaps something. Sam jumped off his bed and sat on the edge of Dean's and shook him gently but he didn't wake up. He was locked in his nightmare. He screamed louder, in panic. Sam shook him harder and called out his name.</p><p>"Dean!' Hey, wake up. It's a nightmare. You're okay. Come on, wake up dammit!"<br/>
Gradually, his struggles got weaker until finally he went limp.</p><p>"No...please...you can't...help me...mom" he pleaded.</p><p>Sam startled at that. <br/>
<em>Mom..?</em></p><p>"Dean, hey"</p><p>His brother's eyes fluttered opened. They were glassy and red rimmed. He was looking up at Sam, but it was like he was not seeing him. Like he was looking through him. It was unnerving. </p><p>"Dea—"</p><p>His brother struggled weakly against him, and Sam let him go. He then turned on his side facing Sam's bed and closed his eyes. His breathing got deeper. He was asleep.</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>Dean has been having nightmares on and off for the past month. They've been getting progressively worse. They had started after a particularly bad hunt involving children. Sam has asked him about them in the morning but he always makes a dismissive comment and says he can't remember. Sam believes him. His expression is confused and worried. Sam doesn't think his faking it, and that worries him.</p><p>Something is wrong with his brother. Each time he has woken his brother, he seems confused, lost. Several times he has asked for dad...for mom. The only good thing about this is that he never waits for Sam to answer him. He lays down, turns on his side and within seconds his fast asleep. </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>Sam couldn't go back to sleep. His brother's behavior worried him. He figured he might as well do research online for the cause of his brother's nightmares.</p><p>He was reading up on the causes of night terrors, and nightmares when he heard a small sound and turned to look at his brother. Suddenly his brother sits up and starts screaming. He sounds terrified.</p><p>"Jesus!" Sam swears as he jumps off the bed. He's by Dean's side in a fraction of a second. Sam grabs his shoulders and calls his name. His eyes are wide open but they're unseeing. He's still asleep, yet he's screaming loud enough to wake the dead. Sam is trying to calm him down, but only seems to make things worse. He's getting more agitated. Sam doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do. Calming him is not working.</p><p>He decides that the best thing he can do for his brother is to help him lie back down. After what seems like hours—but was just over three minutes—his brother quiets down. Sam rubs his face in exhaustion. Sam is not getting enough sleep, and Dean can't possibly be getting the rest he needs. He's perpetually pale now, the dark circles under his eyes the darkest he's ever seen them. </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>"Dean, I am telling you! Something is wrong! The occasional nightmare is understandable. What with the things we deal with on a regular basis...But every night?! Is not normal!"</p><p>"I don't know what to tell you Sam. I don't remember any of this, okay?" He says as he absently rubs his face.</p><p>"Why don't I remember any of this?" He whispers. </p><p>"I try and try but...there is nothing. I swear Sam, I don't know." He exhales.</p><p>"Okay," Sam relents. "Then answer me this. "How do you feel when you wake up in the mornings?"</p><p>Dean looks up at him and rubs his eyes. </p><p>"Tired. Like if i didn't get enough sleep. Damn it...I hate his..."</p><p>His brother sounds tired and looks it too. His eyes are dull. </p><p>"Okay, um... I was reading last nigh...actually early this morning."</p><p>"Sorry, Sammy."</p><p>"Don't worry about it Dean. It's not your fault. Anyways, night terrors seemed to affect children mostly. But adults are not exempt from it apparently. It said that they may be triggered by stress, which we have plenty of, and sleep deprivation among other things. I'm gonna go with stress. This has been a very bad month."</p><p>"It has?"His brother said sarcastically. "That's an understatement...it has been a complete disaster."</p><p>"Dean, those kids—"</p><p>"They're dead and is our fault, my fault."</p><p>"There was nothing we could have done! We tried, and no one tried harder than you. You were getting two to three hours of sleep a night. Jesus, you were running yourself into the ground. You still are. We have been hunting nonstop for the past month. I don't know if you are doing this in an effort to forget, or if you feel you have to atone for this perceived fault over failing to save  those children."</p><p>"It was my fault! I should have done more. I didn't do enough, I should have been faster."</p><p>"Jesus Dean, are you hearing yourself?! This is absurd! You gave a hundred percent if not more. This is all dad's fault. That man—"</p><p>"Don't bring dad into this, Sam. This is not his fault." He said angrily. <br/>
"Oh I'm not talking about the hunt. Im talking about your low self worth, how you're quick to throw away your life for a complete stranger. Now that, that is his fault. He did that to his own son." </p><p>Dean is staring at Sam and he can see the hurt in his eyes. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "That, that's all on me. Don't blame dad."</p><p>"Jesus Dean, how can you be so blind when it comes to dad. The only thing that man does is boss you around. I mean he didn't even call to see how you were doing after I called him to tell him you were dy..." Sam cuts off abruptly</p><p>Dean blinked at him and then looked away.</p><p>"Dean I—"</p><p>"Just—Just shut up Sam."</p><p>Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair.</p><p>"Maybe you should get another room. I'll give you the money. I know Im not letting you sleep—"</p><p>"Dude, are you serious? Dean I can't leave you alone until we figure out what is wrong with you."</p><p>"There is nothing wrong with me. It will pass, whatever this is. It's just nightmares"</p><p>"It's not just nightmares, Dean. Have you not been paying attention to what I have been telling you? You are having night terrors. You can really hurt yourself. You could hurt someone else."</p><p>"Then with more reason. I could really hurt you."</p><p>"You stupid, stubborn, son of a bitch! Dean I'm worried about you, not you hurting me. Think about your well being for once in your life, or at least let someone else do it since you seem to be against taking care of yourself." <em>Damn it! His brother can be so exasperating!</em></p><p>"Im not getting another roo—</p><p>"Then i'll—"</p><p>"And neither are you, Dean, and if you do I'll break the door down."</p><p>"And you say dad is bossy" his brother mumbles. </p><p>"I'm doing it for your own good, jerk"</p><p>Bitch" He said good naturally.</p><p>"Dean about what i said, im sorry. I'm...I'm just worried about you."<br/>
 </p><p>"Don't worry about it. We're both running on very little sleep. And yeah we need to do something about this. The thing is that we really don't have much experience with basket cases."</p><p>"You're not crazy Dean. Well, maybe a bit but just not enough to commit you. Actually—"</p><p>"Oh because you're the epitome of mental health. Seriously though, what do we do."</p><p>"We could take turns. If it's like the research said, this will pass soon. We just have to hang on."</p><p>"Well, what other choice do we have. Guess I'll take first shift. You're tired."</p><p>"I don't think so Dean. I know you, and you'll let me sleep until I wake up on my own. I'm taking first shift."<br/>
 </p><p>"Are you serious? !"<br/>
 </p><p>"Deadly"</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>Sam startled awake with Dean's name echoing in his head. He had been watching tv. Watching reruns of an old kid's show Dean and Sam used to watch as kids. He wondered how bored they must have been to actually watch the whole thing. Sometime during his trip down memory lane, he must have dozed off even though he had pretty much given up on sleep.</p><p>Yet he had.</p><p>Standing next to his bed was Dean. He's swaying. His wide eyes are oddly blank.</p><p>"Dean," Sam said "Dean... hey, what are you doing?"</p><p>But Dean did not answer. It didn't even seem like he heard him. He was mumbling something that Sam could not make out.</p><p>"Damn it...he's sleepwalking" Sam swore.</p><p>Sam makes to get up when suddenly he becomes aware of a strange sound, a humming. It had been there since he woke up. No, even before that. He has the feeling that it was that that woke him up, not his brother. He also realizes that it is this sound that his brother is listening to. His head is cocked to the side as if listening to something with rapt attention.</p><p>Sam stays still. His trying to figure out were that humming is coming from. He hears it but not clearly enough to decipher what is saying or where is it originating from. Yet, he has the sinking feeling that his sleepwalking brother knows exactly what it's saying and where is coming from.</p><p>His brother straightened then started walking.</p><p>And stopped in front of the door.</p><p>Sam sat up. The urge to grab his brother intensified. <em>He cant't let Dean open that door! There is something out there and it wants Dean!</em> His mind screams desperately. </p><p>It is in that moment that Sam can finally make out what he is hearing, and freezes in terror. It's mournful wailing. Many voices crying out as one. And they're all from children. </p><p>Dean reaches for the doorknob and that snaps sam out of his shock.</p><p>Sam got to his feet just as Dean opened the door. The wailing had gained volume now, and Sam could've sworn that he could hear his brother's name whispered among the wails. </p><p>He grabbed his brother by the shoulder just as he stepped across the threshold. <br/>
Sam could not be sure. Everything happened so fast, but he thought he saw something shifting in the darkness. He slammed the door closed and hugged his brother to him. He was eerily still in his arms. He needed to check if his brother was okay, but Sam didn't want to let him go.</p><p>He was coming(more like crashing) down from his adrenaline high. He could hear his heart pounding against his chest. He was trembling and sweating. He loosened his hold around his brother slightly and slowly made their way to his bed.</p><p>Definitely, he was definitely not going back to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 2</p><p><br/>
Sam found himself in the middle of a vast graveyard. A graveyard littered with corpses as far as the eye could see. And high up in the sky, a full, bloated moon. The corpses seemed to glow under the yellow moonlight. <br/>
Sam's heart skipped a beat, then another.<br/>
He looked around. But there was only bodies everywhere. He licked his lips nervously and started walking. The quiet and eerie atmosphere made his flesh crawl. There was a slight breeze and Sam was hit with the stink of rotting things. Decaying corpses. His heart beat wildly and he swallowed down bile.</p><p>He had only walked a few steps when he felt his foot step on something soft that made a cracking sound. He looked down uneasily, and picked up his foot. He blinked and blinked his eyes. Not understand at first what it was that he was seeing. It was a hand. A small hand. He took a couple of steps back, looked around, then stopped. He stood there, unable to move. He froze with terror at the sight around him. Children. All the corpses were those of children. A scream lodged in his throat.</p><p>Then he felt a cold and clammy small hand grabbed him by the ankle. He reflexively yanked his foot. A girl, no more than six or seven was on the ground, looking up at Sam. Sam gasped.</p><p><em>Run!</em> His mind screamed. Her eyes were missing, and twin trails of what seemed like blood were running down her cheeks. Her face was gray. Her twin tails were dirty and matted with blood. Dry leaves and twigs stucked on them. She was missing her left arm. Her leg missing from the knee down. Her pink slicker was torn in places. </p><p><em>"Heeelp meee... Heeelp ussssss....pleeeeeeese..."</em> She moaned pitifully. </p><p>Sam felt a scream building in his throat and he swallowed it down. His heart was hammering, hitching painfully as it skipped beats. </p><p>She raised a hand pleadingly as more blood kept running down her cheeks from her eye sockets. </p><p>"Oh god..!" Sam felt tears ran down his cheeks. He just stood there, at a loss. Afraid to do anything and afraid not to. </p><p>Then the corpses started to move. And a high keening sound rose all around him. The pitiful wailing sent chills up his spine and it was gaining volume. </p><p>Among the wails he could hear moaning. <em>"Help us... Please..! So cold...we're so cold..."</em><br/>
<em>"Make us warm again...yes! Make us warm again..give us your warmth...let us bathe in your blood... So warm..!"</em><br/>
<em>"Why can't we be warm..!!</em><br/>
<em>"Want to be warm again...don't want to be cold anymore!" </em><br/>
<em>"Dean—!"</em><br/>
<em>"—are you?"</em><br/>
<em>"So lonely without you—Dean...so lonely!"</em></p><p>"Wha—what?" Sam stammered.  <em>Dean..? Why Dean...</em></p><p>Sam looked around. All the children had gotten to their feet and they were making their way toward him. Sam was breathing hard, sweat beaded on his brow. Somewhere behind him he heard muted giggling and felt cold fingers at the nape of his neck. He turned quickly, the hairs at the back of his neck rising up. But there was nothing there. The corpses still quite a few feet from him. </p><p>From the corner of his eye, he saw a child coming closer to him. He was grinning, a wild and deranged smile, all teeth and gums. His bleeding stumps reached out for him.<em> "Have you seen him? Please, mister, have you seen Dean? Help us..." </em>He said. Then all the other kids started to say the same thing. <br/>
<em>"Help us, yes? Please, mister. We lost him! We lost our brother!</em></p><p>The chanting grew in strength and volume. They had made a circle around Sam, and were all swaying to their chant. <em>Jesus!</em>  Some had their skulls caved in, others were missing ears. A few were missing a limb while the others were missing two or more. But all were missing both their eyes. </p><p>
  <em>"Help us, help us find Dean. Our dear brother. We want our brother!"</em>
</p><p>"No! He's not your brother. What do you want with him?" Sam yelled, asked.</p><p>But they didn't answer. Instead they giggled. <br/>
He shuddered convulsively. </p><p>They were all looking up at him. None of them had eyes, but he had the terrifying feeling that they could see him, sense him. <br/>
He drew a ragged breath and very slowly backed away one careful step at a time. Sam looked around helplessly. So many dead kids, and nowhere to run. Sam had never known such a complete and total terror before. </p><p>Sam took another step and then stoped. Stopped cold as he felt icy chills ran down his spine. He didn't dare move a muscle, held his breath.</p><p>Then he heard it again. A deep sinister voice. </p><p><em>"You're not him. Not one of mine..." Echoed</em> all around him</p><p><em>"Not him—not one of mine"</em>  It growled again. It's voice dark and soulless. Vicious, evil.<br/>
Sam stood there, frozen in terror. He looked around for the thing that owe that voice. Because it was not one of the kids. No, it was something far worse than those children and their battered bodies. He stood there, his throat tight, heart pounding. Then he heard something behind him. Heavy footsteps. The ground vibrated with each step. He heard it and felt it getting closer.</p><p><em>Run! Jesus! Run!</em> But he couldn't. His eyes welled with tears. He then felt a hot and wet breath at the nape of his beck. That snapped him out of his shock, and he screamed.</p><p> </p><p>  ........................................................................... </p><p> </p><p>"No!’ Sam’s eyes snapped open, and he gripped the sheets of his bed with tightly balled fists. His breathing was rapid and shallow—he was panting hard. He then batted a hand to the back of his neck but found only air. It was a dream. Just a dream! Even so, his body was locked rigid, and it took a moment for Sam’s aching muscles to relax. Just a dream…a nightmare. Sam snapped his head around, looking for Dean. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully.</p><p>His mind swam, still reeling. </p><p>Sam put a hand on his brother's chest. He needed the contact. To know Dean was okay. That nightmare had really rattled him. Well, after last night's events, he was bound to have nightmares. </p><p><em>Last night?!</em> More like three hours ago. <em>Jesus!</em> <em>How could he had fallen asleep?!</em></p><p>Sam massaged his temples. <em>God! He was tired.</em> He felt drained, physically and mentally. He couldn't keep going like this. They couldn't keep going like this. Sam needed help. They both did. </p><p> </p><p>Sam was sitting on the edged of his bed. His heart rate had slowed and his hands had stopped trembling. He kept stealing glances at his brother. So far he had not stir even once. It worried him. After the sleepwalking incident, Sam had not been able to rouse him. And god...did he try. Finally he gave up and just put him to bed. Sam's bed. Sam had sat next to him, with the intention of staying awake. One minute he's thinking how to tell Dean they need help, the next he's coming out of a nightmare.</p><p>"Damn it," he mutters.<br/>
He's making his way to the table,(he needs coffee) when he hears a scream. It's a woman and she sounds desperate. At first Sam is not sure he heard it. (What with his nightmares being full of them.)But them she screams again and this time there are words.</p><p>"Help me, please! Someone!"</p><p>"Micky!"</p><p>"Please... Someone help me!"</p><p>"Micky where are you!"</p><p>Sam looks back at his brother. Still fast asleep. Sam bites his lip. This woman needs help, but he doesnt want to leave his brother alone. He really can't afford to leave him alone. </p><p>"Oh please, Micky, answer me honey!"</p><p>"Jesus! It sounds like it's about kid...damn it."</p><p>He makes his way to the nightstand and grabs the room's key. He looks down at Dean</p><p>"Damn it Dean...you better stay asleep on that bed until I come back." With that he turns around and goes to the front door. </p><p>He's locking the door behind him when a woman comes running toward him. She's young, late twenties to early thirties. Her long blond hair is messy and there are tears in her eyes. Sam pockets the key and gives her his full attention. <br/>
Her distraught features gazed up at him. </p><p>"Please, help me. Nobody else wants to and the police said they would be here in about thirty minutes. Something about being a bit far. But I can't wait." She sobs.</p><p>"Okay, tell me what happened."</p><p>"I just woke up about fifteen minutes ago and the front door was wide open. I had locked it myself last night. I made sure of it. So I don't understand...then, then I went to check on my son and he was not in bed. I looked everywhere in the room already. I checked the parking lot too but he's not here!"</p><p>"Okay, there is a park around here, could he have gone there?"</p><p>"No, no. He knows better than that and plus he's afraid of the dark."</p><p>"He's name is Micky?"</p><p>"Yeah..." She nods</p><p>"I'm going to look in the park. You stay here in case he —"</p><p>There is a sudden scream. That of a terrified child. And it's coming from the direction of the park."</p><p>"Micky!" </p><p>The scream comes again. Longer this time.<br/>
Sam doesn't think twice and runs. </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>There is a young child in pajamas standing in the middle of a public park. He's holding a stuffed tiger in his arms and is looking around.</p><p>"Mommy."</p><p><em>Jesus...the kid can't be more than six years old.</em> Sam thinks.</p><p>"Mo—"</p><p>"Hey," Sam says slowly and carefully. He doesn't want to scare the kid more than he already seems. </p><p>The kid turns to look at Sam and he whimpers.</p><p>"Hey, it's okay. You're Micky, right. I'm not going to hurt you. Your mom is looking for you."</p><p>"Mom... Mommy." He hiccups</p><p>"Yeah, I can take you to her. Can I?"</p><p>"The little boy nods and makes his way to Sam."</p><p>It bothers Sam how easily it was to get the kid to trust him. </p><p>Sam picks up the kid and shudders at the contact. The kid is freezing. He holds him closer and starts making his way back  to the mother. </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>"Micky!"</p><p>"Mommy!"</p><p>Sam hands the kid to the mother, who readily grabs him.</p><p>"Oh honey, what happened? What were you doing out there?"</p><p>"I was following daddy. He was calling me."</p><p>"Wha—what?" She asked confused</p><p>Sam looked back at the woman. Her expression was one of loss.</p><p>"Is something wro—"</p><p>"Daddy, mommy. He was calling me. Said we could be together again. Like before"</p><p>"Honey...daddy..." Her voice wavered.</p><p>Sam was getting a bad feeling. And it had nothing to do with visions, or psychic abilities. His hunter instincts were going haywire. </p><p>She startled at Sam's voice. It seemed like she had forgotten Sam was there. </p><p>"It's — its just that my husband died three months ago. So..."</p><p>"I'm sorry..." Sam said but she didn't seen to hear him. She was looking at her son again.</p><p>"Honey, that's not possible daddy...daddy is in heaven."</p><p>"But he did mommy. He said we could be together again. And I wanted to but..." His lip trembled and tears ran down his face. </p><p>"What honey?"</p><p>"He said you couldn't come with us. That you are not of us. Not one of his."</p><p>The familiar words make Sam's blood run cold. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
Sam looked at the kid. What were the odds that this kid would be saying the same things as in his dream. Was it just a coincedence? Or was something sinister at work here? Sam's mind went back to his sleepwalking brother. That eerie voice calling him. And he shivered.</p><p>"Oh sweetheart, see, it was just a dream. Your father loved us both very much and he would never separate us from each other."</p><p>"Has this been going on for long?" Sam interrupted. He wanted to know more, ask more questions but he really needed to get back to Dean. </p><p>She looked back at Sam, a sheepish expression on her face. "I'm sorry. You've been kind enough to help and I've been very rude. I didn't even ask your name, nor introduce myself. I'm Delilah, and this little night owl is Micky."</p><p>"I'm Sam, and I'm glad I could help. It's okay. You were worried about your son. Must be really though dealing with something like your child sleepwalking."</p><p>"Oh no. He had never done that before. This is his first time ever sleepwalking. It took me by complete surprise."</p><p>"That, that's strange. Just out of the blue..." <em>Like Dean</em>. He thought. "Do you know what could've caused it? You said your husband died three months ago, so it would be strange that he would start just now."</p><p>"I don't know...Should I be worried? Is this going to happen again?"</p><p>Sam is about to tell her that she might need to seek professional help but it's at that precise moment that Sam registers a sound coming from far away but steadily getting closer. </p><p>A siren. A police siren. <em>Damn it...he wanted to ask a few questions to the kid. Some of the things the kid had been saying bothered him. It would have to wait. </em></p><p>"Oh no...I completely forgot I called the police."</p><p>"Um, Delilah, you think you could keep me out of it. It might take long to talk to the police. My brother is sick and I really want to get back to him."  <em>That and the fact that he didn't want to attract attention to themselves.</em></p><p>"Oh sure. Don't worry about it. I'll just tell them he was sleepwalking and I found him in the park. So, don't worry. And thank you for helping me. Hope your brother gets better soon."</p><p>He smiled at her then ruffled the kids curly hair. Micky looked up at Sam with sleepy eyes. Sam looked closer at the kid. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling he had seen this kid before.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>He started back to the room. He had left Dean alone for too long. He made it halfway and then stopped. Stopped cold as he felt chills run down his spine. His heart pounded. Bile rose in his throat and he had a maddening sense that there was something else in the room with Dean. His heart pounded harder and sweat trickled down his face. He started walking again and is almost running by the time he's at the door. He takes the keys out of his pocket. As he puts the key in the lock, he puts his ear to the door. He's not sure, but he thinks he heard something. <em>A...screeching sound?</em> Its muffled as if coming from far away. He opens the door cautiously, certain that there is a threatening presence in the room with his sleeping brother. He only has his gun and a knife and is not sure how much help they'll be. He walks in slowly and quietly, his hand reflexively reaches for the light switch he knows is to his left. He flicks it. A feeling of intense relief passed over him as warm yellow light flooded the room. He gave a cursory glance around the room. Found nobody or anything out of place. Then a thought struck him, and it was a thought that sent that sense of relief back to that unreachable place it has been in for the past month. <em>Didn't he leave the lights on?! Because he's pretty sure he did. Unless...</em></p><p>He glanced over at his brother, who is still asleep and in the same position Sam had last seen him. <em>Is he remembering wrong? Did he automatically turn off the light as he stepped out the door?</em>  </p><p>Sam takes a deep breath and exhales loudly. He rubs his face. He's tired and not thinking straight. He desperately needs sleep. He's about to sit on the edge of his bed when the sound he had been hearing this whole time catches his attention once more. He looks around trying to pinpoint where it's coming from. He looks over to his brother's empty bed. Seems to be coming from that direction. His gaze fell on the duffel bag on the floor next to Dean's bed. </p><p>
  <em>The EMF meter..!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Again..?</em>
</p><p>Sam picked up Dean's duffel bag from the floor.This was not the first time the EMF meter had gone off for no apparent reason. Had done it three times already in the past month. He dumped the bag on the bed, and rooted through Dean's bag looking for it. Last week Sam had buried it under all of Dean's things. It was going crazy and flashing. Seemed like it was picking up a high reading. Just as Sam closed his hand around the device, it cut off abruptly. He took it out of the bag. He flipped it off and on, over and over again. Why does it keep going off for no reason?  <em>Could there be something wrong with it? It had never done something like this...</em></p><p>He flipped on the device and walked slowly acrossed the room, moving the meter back and forth, searching for whatever might have caused it to go off. After about ten minutes of passing it over everything(even the toilet paper) he saw, he turned it off. <em>Nothing. Just like the previous times...what the hell was going on..? </em></p><p>He walked over to Dean's bed, yanked the bag closer to him and angrily shoved it to the bottom of it.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Dean is running. He's out of breath, his lungs and legs on fire, but he knew he couldn't stop. No. They would catch him if he did. He's running down an endless street. He's panting loud enough to drown out the sounds around him. His breath trembled from the fear thrumming through his body. It's night time and only a bloated yellow moon illuminates his path. He's been running long, and yet... <em>he can't shake them!</em> They're right on his heels, steadily getting closer. Dean doesn't know how much longer he can run. Then he sees it. Some type of building to his left. Maybe a house<em>(in the middle of nowhere?!)</em> about a hundred feet from him. Its old and dilapidated, but has to be better than running without a clear destination. He can hide there, make a stand. He needs a weapon and a plan. Dean raced forward, trying not to think about how much closer they had gotten to him. They're gaining on him, and already his legs were tiring. No matter how fast he runs, <em>(its like he's running through water, slush, mud.)</em>he can't seem to lose them. He's getting closer to the house. He was going to make it. <em>Unless...unless the doors were locked</em>. He ran up the stairs. The stairs creaked with each step, the wood damp and mossy. Dead leaves crunched beneath his feet as he reached for the doorknob. He jiggled the lock as he pushed the door. At first he thought it was locked, but then the hinges shrieked in agony and the door gave way. It shuddered open. He stumbled in, slammed the door behind him and locked it. Its a flimsy door with a flimsy lock. It won't keep them out for long. The interior was dark and Dean waited for his vision to adjust. No sense in blundering in. Dean searched around for a light switch. He found it a few inches from the door. He flicked it on, but nothing. He starts looking around the room. He began to pick out details. It was a big room,(<em>living room?)</em> damp and rotted, the smell dank and foul. He wrinkled his nose at the rotten stench. He needed something heavy to drag in front of the door. He found a sofa. He dragged the sofa to the door. It's old and it wobbles. He's afraid it's going to fall apart as he drags it to the door. He sighs in relief as he finally places it in front of the door. It's not much of an obstacle, but..."Better than nothing..." He muttered.</p><p>Dean went up to the only window in the room, moved the heavy curtain out of the way and looked out into the night. He couldn't see them yet, but he could sense them out there. They were getting closer. Dean turned away from the window and started to look for a weapon, or anything that could be used as a weapon really. Moonlight filtered in through the window, giving him more than enough illumination to see the layout of the room. Aside from the sofa there was a chair in the corner of the room. Dean went to it and kicked it hard. He broke off a leg. It was small, light and probably being snacked on by termintes as well. </p><p><br/>
He was breaking off another leg when he heard a sound coming from the door. Scratching. They were finally here. He hurriedly got to his feet and made his way over to the window. Yeah. He counted four of them. They were scratching at the door standing on their hind legs. <em>Wait! Where were the others?</em> He searched for the others desperately. He shifted his gaze over to the road. His breath hitched. </p><p>About fifty feet from the house,  there were dozens of...<em>midget people.</em>.? No, not midget people. Children. They were just standing there as if hypnotized, staring at the house. No. Not the house at large but the window Dean is looking through. Dean has the feeling that they can see him. That they're watching him. The front door rattled again and they started to growl. There was a soft knock, followed by a series of loud bangs. They were throwing themselves against the door. It wouldn't be long before they broke it down. His gaze went back to the kids, but they were not there anymore. He looked for them but there was no sign of them. "Fuck–!"  Dean cursed and froze, listening intently, becoming aware of a shuffling sound in the darkness. It was in here with him. </p><p>He spun around, the useless piece of wood in his hand. "What the..? How did you..?" The saliva dried up in his mouth. Now that they were closer he could now see them better. And he wished he couldn't. There were dozens of children in the room with him. Dead children, because there was no way any of them could possibly be alive. They were missing limbs and both their eyes. There was debris stuck to their hair and clothing. Some where standing while others were crawling. Dean swallowed, his heart pumping violently, as he stared at their mutilated bodies. There was a little girl leaning on the wall. She had pig tails and a slicker. She was missing an arm and a leg. Her mouth was set in a wide smile. <em>Who or what could do something like this to innocent children?! </em></p><p>He sidled away from the window, slowly and cautiously. His back slid across the wall, he didn't dare turn his back on them or take his eyes off them. He had nothing to fight them with if they decided to attack. They we're obviously ghosts, the fact that one moment they were outside and the next in the room right behind him was proof enough. </p><p>A cacophony of furious barking finally penetrated the haze of Dean's overwhelming terror. </p><p>He startled and looked back even though he couldn't see anything from there. He heard a crack. They were breaking the door. Just a matter of minutes before they broke through it. </p><p>
  <em>"Dean..."</em>
</p><p>Someone whispered and he turned around. A chill raced down his spine as they advanced toward him.</p><p><em>"Dean, come with us,"</em> the little girl in the pink slicker held out her hand.</p><p>Dean looked at her at the sound of his name. He knew that voice. A long time ago. He also recognized that slicker.</p><p>"Honey...how–?"</p><p>Dean whispered softly as he walked unsteadily toward her.</p><p>
  <em>"Don't be afraid Dean. We've missed you."</em>
</p><p>Dean is only a few inches from her, when he feels an ominous precense behind him. The little girl seems to see it, for then she opens her mouth wide in a scream, but before any sounds come out of her mouth, she disintegrates in a shower of ash right before his eyes.</p><p><strong><em>"Found you!"</em> </strong>Was growled in a guttural voice, followed by a loud deafening crack.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Sam awoke slumped on the chair.He sat up and glanced around, wiping the sleep from his eyes. <em>How long had he been out?</em></p><p>Something came back to him. A scream. He had been roused from his sleep by a scream. <em>Or had it been a drea—? </em></p><p>Another scream. </p><p>"No...no...nooo!"</p><p>Came a voice from somewhere in the room.</p><p>"Shit!Dean!"</p><p>He's thrashing on the bed. Hard. As if trying to get away from something. Sam grabs his shoulders and shakes him hard. </p><p>"Dean! Wake up!"</p><p>Dean fights him. His terror-filled eyes locked onto his. </p><p>"Save us." His brother whispers in an oddly distorted voice. As if several voices are talking at once. </p><p>"What–"</p><p>"Please..." He sobs</p><p>"Snap out of it, Dean!" Sam says as be shakes him harder. </p><p>Suddenly his brother goes limp and quiet.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Dean was staring at him with glazed eyes. It was almost as if he didn't recognize him.</p><p>Sam swallowed thickly. "Hey," he said.<br/>
His brother stared up at him frowning, blinked a few times and seemed to come out of it. </p><p>"Sam...there better be a good explanation as to why you're at kissing distance."</p><p>Sam sighed in relief. He wiped his forehead with a trembling hand. He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge of it facing Dean.</p><p>At Sam's odd behavior Dean's face twisted in concern and sat up in bed looking worriedly at him.</p><p>"Sam, what's wrong? Hey...—</p><p>"Where do I start..." Sam mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>"I was sleepwalking? I don't understand...I've never—"</p><p>"I don't know Dean. It's not just the sleepwalking, it's everything else. The dreams, night terrors. What happened last night."</p><p>"You mean that feeling that someone was out there? The humming, or whatever."</p><p>"It wasn't just a feeling Dean. I was certain. Something out there was calling you, and you were answering its call. It was like you were in a trance."</p><p>"Are you sure? I mean you're tired. You're wrung out physically and mentally. Maybe you're seeing things..."</p><p>"I'm not imagining them! Jesus Dean! Don't you trust me to know the difference between a hallucination and an actual haunting? Even the EMF meter was going off. You think I imagined that too?!"</p><p>"I'll check it out. There might be something wrong with it. I mean, I made it myself–could it had been a vision?"</p><p>"It didn't feel like a vision. Plus you're acting strange. Why would my visions affect you? Why did you start sleepwalking out of the blue? I mean, come on Dean! I just snapped you out of a nightmare. You were terrified and asking to be saved."</p><p>"I don't remember any of that..." Dean murmured lowering his eyes.</p><p>"After the sleepwalking incident, I–" Sam didn't want to talk about this anymore. He had been terrified when he had been unable to awaken Dean. He had been close to calling an ambulance. </p><p>"What? Sam? What happened?"</p><p>"I couldn't wake you. I tried everything, short of dumping freezing water on your face. It was like you were comatose."</p><p>"Everything..?" Dean was rubbing his cheek and looking at Sam with a murderous expression on his face. </p><p>"Yeah...If your cheeks hurt...well..." Sam shrugged.</p><p>"I'm guessing that's the reason I woke up in your bed instead of mine?"</p><p>"Yeah, you fainted just as I grabbed you and slammed the door shut."</p><p>"Fainted?" His brother said indignantly.</p><p>"Fainted, passed out, lost consciousness. Does it matter? They all mean the same, Dean."</p><p>"Girls faint, Sammy..."</p><p>"Focus, Dean."</p><p>"Okay, so...maybe I'm going crazy, you're going crazy or something else is going on."</p><p>"Dean, seriously?!"</p><p>"Man! What you you want me to say. I haven't experienced any of this stuff. It's only been you. I don't remember the nightmares, sleepwalking, or any freaky thing calling out to me or whatever. The only thing..."</p><p>Sam snapped his eyes to Dean's. "The only thing what?"</p><p>"Just this feeling like, panic, danger. A need to run. It's gotten worse. Almost like something is stalking me. I mean it comes and goes. Its worse at night."</p><p>"Why didn't you tell me about this?"</p><p>"What? That I have a feeling there is something in the dark watching me? Its just a feeling, Sam. I've actually checked but there is nothing. Nothing in the shadows waiting to jump me. No boogieman."</p><p>"When did this start?"<br/>
"It has been happening on and off. It has just been getting worse lately." </p><p>"Since when, Dean? When did you first start feeling this?"</p><p>"At first it was sporadically, that's why I can't give you an exact time. But I can tell you they've gotten worse since a month ago."</p><p>Dean licked his lips and looked down. "But they started even before I went to get you at Stanford.</p><p>It takes Sam a while to make sense of what his brother just told him. After all, he was expecting him to say that it had started over a month ago, which is around the time he noticed. To say that what his brother just said took him by surprise, it's a huge understatement.</p><p>"Before... Stanford...? Wha–? There's...There is a possibility that a supernatural thing has been stalking you all this time and you are just telling me? What the fuck, Dean?!"</p><p>"Did you miss the part where I said it's a feeling. I haven't actually seen anything, Sam!"</p><p>"I can't believe you would downplay something like this. '<em>It's a feeling.'</em> Its your fucking instinct warning you of a possible danger! How could you ignore it for so long? <em>You, especially you.</em> You, who should know better!"</p><p>"Fuck you, Sam! Don't fucking lecture me. I told you I checked. There. Was. Nothing." </p><p>They were both breathing hard and refused to look away.</p><p>It was Dean who first lowered his eyes and rubbed his face tiredly.</p><p>"Damn it..." He said softly. He looked tired and pale. </p><p>"Look Sammy–"</p><p>"Sam."</p><p>"Sammy, I'm telling you I checked. I did. Aside from that feeling there was nothing else. I would never have gone to get you from Stanford if I ever thought I would be putting you in danger. Okay?"</p><p>"I know man. I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply...I'm just worried. Worried about you. Something is going on with you and I have no clue what."</p><p>"We'll figured out Sam. Both of us."</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>They're both drinking coffee and going through some books when Dean's phone goes off. His brother is so focused on the book he's holding that he doesn't even notice his phone vibrating on the table right next to his hand.  Sam waits a few seconds and finally picks it up. </p><p>Coordinates. Coordinates from his dad. That man...</p><p>"You got to be fucking kidding me..!" He swears softly. <br/>
At the sound of his voice Dean looks up. </p><p>"What's wrong? Did you find some—Why do you have my phone?"</p><p>"It was vibrating and you never picked it up."</p><p>"I didn't hear it." He frowns and reaches for his phone. </p><p>Sam hands it over. "They're Coordinates..."</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Dean tried to move past Sam, but he blocked him. He faced Sam squarely, making his hands into fists.</p><p>He looked at Dean—who looked closed to punching him— and walked closer to him. </p><p>"What the fuck Sam. I'm A grown ass man. Stop bossing me around."</p><p>"Really Dean?! You have no problem bossing me around. I'm a grown up too."</p><p>"Well..." He spluttered. "It's not the same. I'm supposed to look out for you."</p><p>"That's exactly what I'm doing! I'm looking out for you. You are not okay to drive. Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?"</p><p>"What do my fucking looks have to do with this?!"</p><p>"You know what I mean, Dean. You're pale, shaky, you got dark circles under your eyes."</p><p>"Oh give me a break. What about you? Don't tell me the dark circles around your eyes are just to complete your emo look. You look worse than me. You're the one who's not sleeping."</p><p>Sam didn't say anything. Reasoning with his brother was a lost cause. So he just looked at him. Dean just pursed his lips and turned away. <em>Oh no, you don't!</em></p><p>He grabbed Dean by the shoulders and spun him around. "Damn it Dean, just listen to me! You want to take care of this case, fine. But we do it my way. That means I drive. You do research. Please, Dean. Don't fight me on this." Sam said the last pleadingly.</p><p>Dean's eyes searched his face with worry. "Okay Sammy. You can drive." He relented.</p><p>He sighed then started to make his way to his bed. Sam couldn't't believe he gave up so easily. </p><p>"You know, Sam, you didn't have to make all this drama just to drive the car." Dean said as he grabbed the duffel bag from the floor. </p><p>Sam grunts and starts shoving his things in his duffel bag.</p><p>"You're such a jerk."</p><p>"And you a drama bitch"</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>With no streetlights along the unpaved road, Sam had a hard time finding the road that would take him to the cemetery. He shifted his gaze over to the tree line on each side, but so far nothing. The rows of thin trees on each side cast shadows effectively making it harder to find a road not used much anymore. The car violently bounced up and down, and his brother cursed.</p><p>Next to him, Dean was grinding his teeth. He was really pissed off. </p><p>"Dude, I cant believe you're not letting me drive my own car."</p><p>"Dean, we already talked about this. You're tired. You can barely keep your eyes open. The only reason you have not fallen asleep is because you are an asshole and want to prove me wrong."</p><p>Dean licked his lips, his eyes wide and peeking in various directions from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of the road that would take them to the abandoned cemetery. </p><p>"Seriously, stop pouting."</p><p>"What! I'm not pouting...you're pouting..!"</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"You started it."</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes vigorously. He was tired and sleepy.They had spent most of the day doing research. Five men had been pushed off the stairs of a two story house. Three had died, two survived with broken bones and concussions. The two survivors had said the same thing. That as they neared the staircase, they had felt cold and in the next moment something had pushed them. Both had been alone when it happened. The house had been up for rent for less than a year, and five families had already been victims of this thing. First they had to find who, or what was haunting the house. After hours of going through records of previous owners they had stumbled upon Victoria. She had died after breaking her neck from falling down the stairs in 1930. Or so, the police thought. Sam and Dean had searched the house from top to bottom, and after hours of looking around, luckily Dean had found Victoria's diary. He had found it under some out of the way floorboards in the basement. They read the last entries of the diary. From that they learned that Victoria's husband, James, was an abusive asshole. He would abuse her physically and mentally. He also cheated on her. And had a lover.  She wrote that she confronted him, and threatened him to throw him out of the house if he didn't leave her mistress. He beat her so bad it had taken her three days to get out of bed. The last thing she wrote was that she was afraid he would kill her. Both Dean and Sam assumed that more than likely he had killed her. James sold the house to a young widow, and he moved to another state. The woman never married and she died alone. Which explained why there hadn't been any ghost activity till now. The men had been the trigger. The fact that it was only men she threw down the stairs reinforced it. They had burned the diary but not before Sam had the privilege of shooting her twice while he had been upstairs. Dean had been angry at being sent to search the first floor, while Sam the second floor. He threatened retribution. After burning Victoria's diary, they went through more records to find where she had been buried. It took them long. Apparently the current cemetery was <em>only</em> sixty six years old. The one where Victoria had been buried for some reason had been abandoned and forgotten. They had wasted a lot of time looking for her grave in the '<em>new</em>' cemetery, and it wasn't even there. Now, at three in the early morning,(or late in the night as Dean grumpily said) they were looking for the road that would lead them to the abandoned cemetery.</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>"...am"</p><p>"Sam! Slow down, there! I see the road." Dean was pointing his finger to Sam's side. The full beams of the car illuminated the path ahead clearly, Sam could make out an old signpost. The word 'cmtry' just barely discernable. </p><p>"About fucking time..! I was getting claustrophobic."</p><p>Sam raised his eyebrows and looked at his brother sideways. "Only you would get claustrophobia in an open place."</p><p>"Maybe if I was driving <em>my car</em>, I wouldn't feel like that."</p><p>"Not happening dude." Sam said as he stopped the car next to the signpost. Sam saw the narrow trail and knew that they couldn't go through with the car. Rows of trees on each side were encroaching on the narrow trail. <em>Great! They would gave to walk. </em></p><p>"You got to be fucking kidding me..!"</p><p>"We're going to have to leave the car here."</p><p>"What! We're not leaving <em>my baby</em> in the middle of nowhere!"</p><p>"Dude, you only have two choices. Either we leave the car here, or we drive it through <em>that</em>. Your choice."</p><p>"Goddammit..!"</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>The moonlight cast a pearly glow on the cemetery. Sam shivered slightly with the chill in the morning fog as they walked past the stand of silent gravestones. Some of the stones had fallen over, while others seemed to be crumbling where they stood. Dean bent over a gravestone to read the inscription. </p><p>Sam looked around. <em>Damn...this place was bigger than he first thought it was going to be.</em> They would have to separate to cover more ground. Sam was not okay with that. </p><p>"Fuck!"</p><p>"What?" Sam asked as he looked back at his brother. Dean straighten and waved his hand at the gravestone he had been looking at. </p><p>"The gravestones. They're too damage. Hard to make out the names on them."</p><p>"Yeah. Not only that, this place is too big. Is going to take us all night to go through the whole place."</p><p>"We'll cover more ground if we separate."</p><p>Sam didn't like it, but there really was not much they could do.</p><p>"Fine. Just call me if you find it—do me a favor."</p><p>Sam said as he looked directly into Dean's eyes.</p><p>"Be careful, Dean. Please."<br/>
His brother gave him an incredulous look and frowned. </p><p>"I'm always careful. I've been doing this practically my entire life. You should be careful. It's you who was out of hunting for four years, college boy."</p><p>"Dean, I'm serious. You are reckless. Don't do anything stupid, okay? And call me if you find her grave as soon as you find it."</p><p>"Fine, <em>mother</em>. I'm leaving before you decide to hold my hand so I don't get lost."</p><p>"I should... you're worse than a child."</p><p>"I'm leaving." Dean said as he turned around and started walking away from him.</p><p>Sam is making his way to a cluster of gravestones when Dean calls out his name. </p><p>"Sam."</p><p>"The same goes for you, college boy. Be careful, and if you find it, you better call me."</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere in the cemetery Dean screamed and Sam's blood ran cold.</p><p>
  <em>Dean!</em>
</p><p>Sam turned his head, scanning his surroundings. <em>Where had the scream come from!?</em></p><p>"Dean, where are you?"</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Dean was sprawled on the ground unconscious, the ghost of veronica hovering over him. She was  caressing his cheek with one hand and running her fingers through his hair with the other. She lowered her head to Dean's, touching her forehead to his.</p><p><em>"Not alone... Two...in...one..."</em>  She said in a distorted voice.</p><p>"Get away from him!" <em>Jesus! He told Dean they were not ready! The idiot!</em></p><p>The hazy form hovering over Dean snapped her gaze eerily to Sam and she growled menacingly at him. She lowered herself closer to Dean, draping herself over him in what seemed a protective manner. </p><p>The ghost gave an ear piercing shriek, her head tilted back and her mouth yawning wide.</p><p>Sam pull the trigger and the ghost of veronica vanished in a shower of salt. </p><p>Sam sprinted toward his brother and dropped to his knees next to him. </p><p>"Dean! Hey, what's wrong?!" His face is pale, colorless. He shakes him slightly, and slaps his cheek gently. </p><p>"Dean, hey. Come on, open your eyes."<br/>
Sam's fingers tighten around his brother's shoulders and he gives him a quick, hard shake.</p><p>Dean jerks, and his eyes fluttered opened. His glassy eyes skip right over Sam.</p><p>"A woman, pale...she's beautiful...watch—watching from the headstones." Dean slurred.</p><p>"What!" Sam said as he looked behind him. He saw the headstones, but no woman among them. Plus Victoria was a plain woman. Not beautiful. At least not Dean's type. </p><p>"Dean, what—?" Dean shook his head slightly and looked at Sam in confusion.</p><p>"Sammy, why...why am I on the floor? I don't—"</p><p>"Victoria. I found you unconscious and she was on top of you."</p><p>"Kinky bitch."</p><p>Sam couldn't help it and he chuckled.</p><p>"Hovering over you, dude. Not on top of you."</p><p>"Same shit..."</p><p>"Come on, get up. The ground is wet and cold."</p><p>He gently pulled his brother to his feet. </p><p>"Oh that's right. I was going to call you. I found her."</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Sam stopped digging and gazed up at his brother who was standing guard. He hadn't been able to erase the image from his head. Dean on the ground and Victoria just hovering over him. A confused yet curious expression on her face. And what had she meant by that? Why had sh–.</p><p>Sam saw his brother stiffened and cock his head. Suddenly he turned around aim the shotgun and fired just as Victoria started to materialize in front of his brother. She shrieked and dispersed in a cloud of grey dust.</p><p>
  <em>What the..–</em>
</p><p>Dean swayed and Sam was about to climb out. Dean shook his head then turn to look at Sam.</p><p>"Sam, why the fuck are you just standing there. Hurry up and toast the bitch!"</p><p> </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Dean was asleep. His head resting on Sam's shoulder. Sam yawned and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. His eyes threatened to close on their own. He was beyond tired, and it was getting increasingly harder to stay awake. He wished his brother was awake to keep him company. He glanced at the clock on the car radio. Four ten. At least it took them less than he thought. Sam glanced at his brother thoughtfully. </p><p>"Not alone. Two in one." Sam muttered.</p><p>
  <em>What had Victoria been talking about? </em>
</p><p><em>The</em> car swerved to the right when it hit a pothole and Sam turned his attention back to the road. Ghosts were irrational. Sure, but none had ever done or said strange things like Victoria had. Then there was Dean's behavior. Sam could have sworn his brother had known where Victoria was going to materialized before she did. Yes, you can tell when they're closed by, because of the sudden drop of temperature. But not the exact spot. If Sam had not been watching his brother like he has been doing lately, he would have just thought it was good instincts and coincidence. But he knew better. Somehow Dean had known. He had asked Dean but his brother had given him a blank gaze. As if not understanding what Sam had been talking about. Sam had told him what had happened and Dean just looked at him in utter confusion. Said that he didnt remember that. That maybe sam needed sleep. Desperately. Sam had felt a chill ran down his spine. Dean was not pretending. He really did not know what Sam had been talking about. As he stared ahead, a thought came to him. Something was definitely wrong with his brother, and Sam was ill equipped to deal with this. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This time is Sam's full bladder that awakens him from a deep sleep. He's still half asleep when he makes his way over to the restroom. He quickly takes care of business, washes his hands and makes his way over to the kitchen. He's thirsty. He turns on the light and looks back at his brother. The light doesn't seem to bother him. He fills a cup with tap water and drinks it in one go. He's putting the cup down when he hears Dean groaned deep in his throat. Then starts moaning and tossing his head from side to side. Sam sighs. Is going to be another long night.</p><p>Sam is making his way over to Dean when he's suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of dread that's completely nonspecific. He froze in place, suddenly feeling unsettled. Dean's moaning got louder and started thrashing around noisily. The EMF meter is wailing and screeching. The tv snapped on, the white noice drowning all other sounds for a moment, then snapped off. The lights flickered. The warm yellow light went harsh white suddenly. It flickered again, the crackle of electricity loud, then it went off plunging the room into darkness. Sam looked around, feeling the blackness pushing in at him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and his heartbeat quickened. In the far corner something moved. <em>The chair!</em> The scraping of wood unmistakable. He listened for a minute, then two, as the panic in him rose. He stood there, listening intently. Then he heard tiny scampering footsteps. He senses movement. He's sure of it. It's behind him, to the left, to the right. He tries breathing in and out to calm himself, but it does no good. His heart is hammering away in his chest. He sees no one, but he's suddenly certain that someone is here, someone that doesn't belong. For a bit there is only the erratic beat of his heart, the sound of the breath in his lungs and the blood rushing through his head.</p><p>Then came a sound from behind him. <em>Was someone...humming?</em> Yeah, someone was humming softly with the voice of a young child. Sam whipped his head around. There is a vague form standing over his brother. Barely visible, just enough for Sam to see that the figure was small and that it was a little girl. Sam's mouth goes dry at the sight of it. <em>Jesus! Is the little girl from his dream! The one with the pink slicker.</em> Her skin(the bit he can see) is bleached white. Her head is resting on one shoulder like her neck is broken. She is looking down at Dean and is running gentle fingers through his brother's hair. It makes Sam's skin crawl. He starts making his way over to his brother. As Sam gets closer,(he's walking slowly and cautiously, after all, some thing has Its hand on his brother's hair, and he doesn't want to push It into doing something to him)he can make out more details about her(she's right in front of the window). She's closing and opening her mouth. She is the one humming. She's gently caressing his hair, in a comforting manner. The humming gets louder. And now Sam can make out what she's humming. It's a children's song. It's not a song Sam is overly familiar with. Sam felt a chill run through him that only increased as Dean quieted down and went still. The humming tapered off, then stopped.</p><p>The little girl grabbed onto the headboard with her only arm and twisted her body awkwardly so she could face him. Sam gasped. He had forgotten about that. Both her eyes were missing. She stood stock still, watching him, studying him with those empty eye sockets. Her lips stretched into a smile, she raised her torn arm and beckoned him closer. Sam stood there, indecisive. He had no weapon on him. Both the knife and gun were on the stand next to the his bed. He was worried that if he went for his weapons first the specter would do something to Dean. But confronting her without a weapon to protect himself and Dean was not a good idea. He would have to risk it, hopefully he was fast enough. He went for the weapons. </p><p>Sam stepped forward, and hideous disembodied laughter came rolling out of the darkness, cold and demonic. It faded to a low, chilling cackling that echoed around him. With a cry, Sam whirled around, almost certain there was someone behind him. For a second there, he could feel their cold breath on the back of his neck.</p><p>But, there was nothing. Just the dying echo of that sinister laughter left behind. Sam turned back around. </p><p>From her eye sockets were two trails of dark liquid running down the little girl's cheeks. She sniffled. <em>Was she cry—?</em> Her mouth sprang open and a shrill, piercing cry came out. It was high and piercing, coming with considerable volume. It echoed around him, reverberating with a shrilling, eerie cadence...then the wailing from hundreds of voices joined hers. An awful pathetic sound that rattled through his skull. Sam could feel fear settle into him. It sent chills up his spine. Sam pressed his hands to his ears so he would not hear the voices anymore. Those desperate, terror filled pleas from the children. Because among the wails he could hear the mournful pleas for help. To be saved. He could hear Dean mumbling away, thrashing in the bed again. There was a sudden inexplicable blast of reeking air. It was the nauseating stink of sweet decay. Rotting meat. The smell got stronger. <em>Where was that awful smell coming from?!</em> He glanced around the room, looking for the source of the smell. That's when he saw them. There were forms in the darkness. Many of them. Dark shapes and menacing shadows. So many...there were shadows in the corners of the room, behind curtains, crawling on the floor. And they were all going in the same direction. Toward his brother. Once they reached his bedside the wailing stopped. For a few seconds absolute quiet. Then as one they all started to hum that same tune the little girl had been humming to Dean. And just like before his brother calmed down. Icy chills ran down his spine. His heart pounded, sweat ran down his face. He was rooted to the spot. What he was seeing was filling him with primal terror. <em>Dean!</em> Sam wanted to scream, (<em>he needed to warn his brother!!!</em>) but his throat was clogged with terror. It was unlike anything he had seen before, unlike any visions he had experienced. If he didn't know any better he would say he was hallucinating. But this felt too real. The terror he was feeling was too real. He knew that if you stared into the darkness enough, you began to see imaginary forms, lurking shadows. But Sam was not relying solely on his eyes and ears. No. He was relying on his many years of experience as a hunter. On his instincts that had so many times saved both their lives.</p><p>Sam saw as a small figured reached a hand to his brother's cheek. That broke the spell. "Get away from him!" He yelled. The apparition flinched, and twisted its head around. The small boy gazed up at him. He opened his mouth and a guttural sound escaped him.</p><p><em>"Heeee fffound him. Heeeee was hiding, aaaand we seek. Buuuut he found him."</em> He rasped</p><p>Wiping his sweat from his face and chasing the chill of fear from his heart, Sam said,"who or what are you? What do you want with my brother?"</p><p>But the boy just looked up at Sam. He cocked his head to the side, a stray curl hiding one eye socket.</p><p>There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere. It became charged with static electricity. His hair, and the small hair on his arms were standing up. There was a hum of electricity, the light flickered on and off in quick succession, then it sputtered and went out. The EMF meter cut off abruptly. And suddenly, absolute silence. No other sounds except for Sam's rapid breathing. </p><p>As Sam turned to look at his brother the light came on, blinding him for a moment. He closed his eyes against the harsh light, when he opened his eyes the light was still on, and the children were gone.</p><p>Sam makes it to Dean's bed in just about a fraction of a second. He needs to check on him.</p><p>Dean had been asleep... And suddenly he sat right up, looking shocked and frightened, wide, grey eyes looking right into Sam's eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Grey?!</em>
</p><p>Sam gasped, stumbled, and fell backward. His heart pounding in his chest</p><p><em>"Help...you must..."</em> A soft, warped and echoey voice whispered pleadingly.</p><p>Sam blinks–</p><p>He's staring right into bright green eyes. Dean's eyes are blank. He begins to tremble and shake. He's gone pale and bright red blood starts dripping from his nose. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapses..</p><p>Sam scrambled to his feet, catching him as he fell out of bed unconscious. He cradled his head against his chest. </p><p>"Come on Dean, please wake up..."</p><p>Dean's eyes fluttered, opening to reveal eyes, rolled up in his head. Sam shook him again, trying to rouse him. Dean's eyes fluttered open, they were dazed, unseeing. "Honey..." He said. He blinked then he closed his eyes.</p><p>"Hey, Dean, come on. Keep your eyes open. Please, I swear I'll take you to the hospital if you don't wake up right now!"</p><p>His eyes opened again, and snapped into focus on Sam.</p><p>"S-s-s-sammy..." Dean slurred. His eyes closed then opened. "Wha-wha-wha-" He tried to sit up and weakly pushed at Sam's chest.</p><p>"Shhhhh, Dean." Sam soothed.</p><p>His face creased in confusion. He rubbed his nose absently smearing blood on the back of his hand. He was breathing heavily and shaking. He was glancing around himself looking dazed and confused.</p><p>"Dean..?"</p><p>"Calling me...keep calling me..."</p><p>Sam held his brother tightly. "Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh, it's okay. It's okay. Just a nightmare." He knew how hollow that sounded, but he wanted to believe it, he needed to believe it. For both their sake.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sam had run all the tests he could think of on his bother while he was unconscious. Holy water, silver knife, salt, EMF meter. Nothing. Not a bleep from the EMF meter, no reaction to the silver knife, or holy water.</p><p><em>Jesus..! Had he imagined all this...was he goin—No! He had not imagined the pale grey eyes that had gazed up at him, nor the distorted feminine voice that had come out of his brother's mouth!</em> </p><p>Sam grabbed his cell phone. He searched through his contacts, and almost dropped his phone. His hands were still shaking. His index finger hovered uncertaintly over his dad's name. He took a deep breath, and pressed it. He immediately got his mailbox.</p><p>"Hey dad. I know–" his voice got chocked up. "I know we agreed that it was not safe for you to stay with us...but dad. Something–" He took a deep shaky breath. "Something is happening to Dea–us. Something I can't explain. Dad, I can't do this anymore. I can't do this alone. I need you, Dean needs you. Please...I don't know what's going on. I don't know what to do anymore." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>"Fucking bitch...kicking me out of my own damn house just because I got drunk!"</em> Jerry cursed as he stumbled on uneven ground. The night was chilly and damp and he shivered. The bitch had not even let him get a jacket. He'll show her. A good beating should put her in her place. </p><p>It's late in the night. There is no moon, and very few stars lit up the dark sky. If it wasn't for the streetlights and the few buildings with their parking lights on it would be too dark. He had thought to get a room at the motel but he didn't have enough money. Wasted most of it at the bar. His only option was to go to the one park this godforsaken town has and sleep on the bench. </p><p>He had been walking for what felt a long time before both the park and motel came into view. The flashing neon sign with the words 'Starlit Motel' across it seemed to beckon him, to tempt him with the promise of safety and a good night's sleep. <em>Damn it...if only he had money. Can't believe he had to sleep on a bench just like a homeless bum! Fucking bitch..! </em></p><p>As he neared the road he would cross to get to the park, he noticed a dark shape on the ground on other side of the street. Suddenly the wind shifted in his direction, and the sweetish rotten odor of decomposition came along with it.</p><p>Roadkill.</p><p>
  <em>Jesus! Smells like it had been baking in the sun for a while! </em>
</p><p>"Wonder what dumb animal got hit. Dog, cat, possum. Maybe a brat..?" He muttered viciously . </p><p>He picked up his pace and quickly crossed the street without bothering to look out for oncoming traffic. The place was empty except for Jerry. </p><p>"Hey buddy, forgot to look both ways before crossing the street? Huh?" He chuckled as he got closer to the mangled body of a dog. One of its hind legs was bent at an odd angle. There were missing patches of fur, and there was dry blood on its muzzle. Jerry poked it's stomach with his foot. "Yep, should have looked both wa—" </p><p>One of its front legs twitch, once, twice then stilled. <em>What the..?</em></p><p>Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed it down with a frown. <em>Jesus..! Maybe he was more drunk than he thought. Now he was imagining things. </em></p><p>He took a few steps back without taking his eyes off the dog. He stumbled over his own feet and fell to the ground. <em>Definitely more drunk than he thought...</em></p><p>He sat up and tried to get to his feet, he was having a much harder time then he usually did when he was sober. Finally he got to his feet. If he wasn't so drunk he might've been embarrassed, not that it mattered, the only witness was dead and rotting away. He glance back at the dog, and froze. The dog(<em>dead dog</em>) rose up from the ground, jerking and twitching. He heard bones creaking, and a squelching sound. Jerry was struck not only speechless but motionless. He watched rooted to the spot as the dog stood on three legs as steady as can be. The dog lifting its muzzle, seemed to sniff the air; and then slowly began to move its head in Jerry's direction. The dog grunted twice and made a sound from deep in its throat. A low, rumbling growl which broke almost instantly into a snarl. The spit dried in Jerry's mouth and his breath caught in his throat. It snapped its teeth at him, the jaws opening wide with a bloody froth of bile. <em>What's happening?! How is this possible? Why? No...not possible—yet it is..!</em> Because <em>it</em> was—<em>had</em> been dead. It's hind leg was useless and limp, one of its ears torn off, a gaping wound on the side of its stomach. There was a significant puddle of blood underneath it. Its eyes milky white. Yet, it was on its three working legs making growling and snapping sounds at him. Its fangs sharp and deadly. Jerry was paralyzed with fear, and it felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest. He forced himself to back away from it. It snarled at him as if warning him not to move, and Jerry stopped instinctively. He stood stunned,(<em>too terrified to do anything else but</em>) staring at it. Jerry whimpered. The dog(<em>dead dog!</em>) sank low on its haunches, (<em>move!!!</em>) then Jerry screamed in abject terror(<em>move!!!Damn it!!!</em>) as the dog flew through the air and hit Jerry full in the chest. He fell on his back hard, the air forced from his lungs with the impact. The dead thing was on top of him. There was an overpowering putrid smell coming off it, and maggots were falling from the gaping wound on its stomach. They were dropping onto his chest, and he could feel them squirming. That was too much for Jerry and he finally snapped out of his shock and terror and fought with everything he had. But for something that was rotting right in front of his eyes, the dog was really strong and quick. Its jaw darted in snakelike quick and razor sharp fangs impaled his throat. The pain was unbearable but short as darkness took him and he knew no more. </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! "</p><p>The scream that came from the room was blood curling and Sam startled(<em>and terrified out of his mind</em>) dropped the key and the coffee he had been holding in his other hand. Heart in his throat and shaking badly, it took him three tries(<em>the keys were slippery..! Why were they slippery!!! He thought wildly</em>)to pick the keys from the floor. One second he's cursing his atrocious aiming, the seeminly shifting doorknob, his brother's horrible timing, the next he's gasping for air as the wind was knocked out if his lungs. It takes his oxygen depleted brain a couple of seconds more than usual to understand that it was not a cannonball that struck him, but Dean. </p><p>Fighting the pain of having the wind knocked out of him, Sam struggled to restrain his brother and managed to keep hold of him while he caught his breath. </p><p>"No! No! No! No!" Dean screamed and gasped, his body thrashing. "Get off me! Let go!" Dean said as he grabbed his throat. He was making choking sounds as he wrestled with an invisible attacker. Sam wrapped his hands around his brother's shoulders and shook him hard. Dean's eyes were open but sightless. He was trapped in a nightmare, again. He looked and sounded terrified. He started fighting him viciously in an effort to get away and Sam was having a hard time holding on to him so he wouldn't hurt himself. They grappled together, bumping into things. They knocked over the lamp and slammed into the wall finally crashing together to the floor, Sam falling on top of his brother. His brother gasped, then went limp beneath him, going out cold. His head thumped against the floor and did not move. </p><p> "Shit! Dean." Sam said as he gently slapped his cheek.</p><p>His brother groaned. He blinked his eyes and licked his lips. "Ssammy...get it—get it off me." He slurred.</p><p> "It's me Dean, it's just me."</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sam is sitting on the edge of his bed facing his brother. He gives the clock on the nightstand a sideways glance. Four twenty-two. <em>God...it feels like it should be much later than this...it's been a long night.</em></p><p>"It felt so real. I felt it, I could smell it, and taste it, Sammy. So much blood." The hand he rubbed over his mouth was shaking. </p><p> "What was the nightmare about?"</p><p>"It's...It's confusing. I don't know how to explain it. It was like I was seeing the same thing but through different—different perspectives. I was the man, I was the de—dog. And something else."</p><p>Sam swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. "So you remember? You remember the nightmare?"</p><p>"Yeah. Very clearly. I don't think I'm going to forget any time soon. "</p><p> "Okay. What happened?"</p><p> "Sam, I don—"</p><p> "Tell me, Dean. Just, just tell me"</p><p>"Okay. I don't know why It matters, but okay."</p><p> He chewed his lower lip, and took a deep breath. </p><p>"It was a man. His name was Jerry and his wife kicked him out of the house. He was drunk and had nowhere else to go so he was going to the park. To sleep on the bench. But, there was a...there was a dead dog. Was dead. It. It got up then attacked the man. It tore his throat open. I felt his pain as that dead thing sunk his fangs into his throat. Felt like I was the one whose throat was being torn open. But...But I also felt when my teeth tore into his skin. I could taste the blood in my mouth. I was also seeing it from somewhere else. Farther away. I was. I was just watching it happpen."</p><p>Sam frowned. He had never had dreams like that. Even his visions were not like that. </p><p>"What else?"</p><p>"That's it. The nightmare ended there or at least that's when I woke up."</p><p>Sam watched his brother thoughtfully. He still couldn't decide whether to tell him what he had seen or not. Yesterday, he had spent the whole day trying to decide if he should tell his brother what had happened. In the end he had decided to wait. If it happened again he would tell him. He had watched his brother closely for any signs of possession. But nothing out of the ordinary had happened. His brother had freaked out when he saw the blood on his shirt, but Sam told him that it was just a nosebleed. Now it seems he needs to tell his brother. </p><p>"Dean..." Sam shifted on the bed and looked nervously at his brother. "There is something I need to tell you."</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean sat there looking at him. Looking at Sam and through him. He was pale...But at Sam's words he went even paler. Porcelain white.</p><p> "Dean?"</p><p>Dean swallowed, kept swallowing. "Possessed," he began, trying to regulate his breathing, "you think I'm possessed? Really? I would know if I was possessed, Sam! Fuck!" He swore. "Wouldn't I? I mean, It's my body and it's not like I'm some ignorant civilian. I would know. I. Would. Know."</p><p>"I don't know Dean... "</p><p>"You're wrong! Makes no sense. I mean, when did I become possessed? No, no. You ran the tests. There was nothing, so—there's just no way." </p><p>"Dean, I saw it. I heard it. Saw the gray eyes and I heard her voice. "</p><p>"Then do it again. Come on. Test me for possession again."</p><p>"Dude, I checked you for possession three times. Nothing. "</p><p>"Then you're wrong!" Dean yelled</p><p>"I know what I saw, and I know what I heard, Dean!" Sam yelled back</p><p>"Then how the fuck do you explain this, Sam? Huh?"</p><p>"I don't know Dean, okay. I can't explain it. I'm just telling you what happened the night before." </p><p>"I can either be possessed or not possessed, but I can't be both."</p><p>"Something is wrong with you, Dean! I don't know what it is. But something is wrong! And we can't just ignore it anymore. We have to do something. This is not just night terrors, or stress, man." <em>God, they had this same argument for the past few weeks!</em> Sam rubbed face tiredly and sighed wearily. He felt a tear ran down his cheek and wiped at it angrily. Lately he was having a hard time controlling his emotions. The stress, or lack of sleep, or a combination of the two were taking a toll on him. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes in an attempt to go get his emotions under control. </p><p>"Sam, hey. Come on, look at me. "</p><p>Sam lowered his hands and looked across at his brother. There was a worried expression on his face and he was biting his lower lip as he looked at Sam. </p><p>"Okay, you're right. We have to do something. We'll tackle this like if it was any other case. We'll do research and go over everything you and I have experienced over the past month. We'll compare notes on our experiences.  We'll figured it out Sam. But—"</p><p>"I knew there was a but coming..." He muttered.</p><p>"Look I know this has been though on you. You haven't slept much either. I was just going to say to take a nap. Hell, is still early enough to go back to sleep. It's barely...five thirty-six..?—now that I think about it, what the hell were you doing out so early?"</p><p>"After what happened the night before, I couldn't go to sleep, I <em>didn't</em> want to go to sleep. I went and got some coffee from the store around the corner. That's what I had been doing when...you know." Sam shrugged.</p><p>Dean gave him an indecipherable look.</p><p>Sam frowned. "What?"</p><p>"You brought one for you but not for me?"</p><p>Trust his brother to focus on the wrong thing. "Dude, you were asleep! Plus, is not like I got to enjoy it."</p><p>"Do I look like I'm sleeping to you?" </p><p>"That's only because—you know what? Never mind. Anyways the floor would've been enjoying two coffees instead of one. Also, I don't know if in your condition, should you be drinking coffee."</p><p>"My condition..? What? Am I pregnant?"</p><p>"Jesus, seriously...Dean, you started bleeding for no reason, you fain—passed out." Sam amended after Dean glared at him.</p><p>"I'm fine, Sam. Okay? Whatever that was it passed already. Anyways, you didn't get much sleep last night, or the night before, or the night before that night..." He muttered under his breath. "I'll do some research while you get some sleep."</p><p>They had this conversation before too. <em>Did it work out?</em> He couldn't remember. </p><p>Sam wanted to argue with his brother. It was important to get started as soon as possible. His sense of urgency had been growing greater each day. Sam could not tamp the feeling that they were running out of time. But, in all honesty, he was tired, and in desperate need of sleep. He wouldn't be much help if he was going to be fighting sleep and exhaustion on top of a bored Dean the whole time. </p><p>"Okay. Just a few hours, then if I don't wake up on my own, you will wake me up, Dean. Okay. Promise me."</p><p>His brother chewed his lip while he looked at everything but Sam.</p><p>"Dean... Hey, dean?" Sam said as he snapped his fingers in front of his brother's face to get him to look at him. "Hey!"</p><p>His brother finally looked at him and he slapped his hand away. "Fine, Sam! Jesus...I'll wake you up if you don't. Got it."</p><p> "Okay, It's barely going to be six. So, wake me for lunch. Around one. We'll get some lunch then we'll start on the research."</p><p> "One? Sammy at least till three—"</p><p> "One, Dean. At one."</p><p> " Fine, bitch"</p><p> "Asshole"</p><p> "Hey!"</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sam woke slowly, deeply refreshed. He was comfortable and wanted to keep his eyes close for a little while longer. It had been a while since he had slept without dreaming. Forgot what that was like. He slept the deep, oblivious slumber that comes from not getting enough sleep night after night. He gradually became aware of the sound of voices. Startled he sat up in bed and looked around room then his gaze settled on the TV. It was on. So was the light. He looked around for his brother. Dean was in bed. He was on top of all the blankets fast asleep. That told Sam it had not been his brother's intention to go to sleep. Sam looked over at the clock and blinked. He had to be seeing this wrong. There was no way it was going to be six. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. Yeah. Five minutes to six. He had slept most of the day away.</p><p>"Damn it, Dean." He whispered.</p><p>He got off the bed and went over to his brother. He shook him gently and his brother stirred. Usually Sam had to worry about approaching his brother when he was sleeping but lately his brother was too groggy and lethargic to be much of a threat when he came awake. His brother looked up at Sam confused. </p><p>"What, what's wrong Sammy?"</p><p>"You let me sleep the day away. So, come on I'll get us something to eat and then we can start on research."</p><p>"We'll do it tomorrow."</p><p>"No, today." Sam said firmly.</p><p>"Fine..." He grumbled.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>"Dude, seriously?! You're on your fifth beer and you haven't so much as looked at your burger."</p><p>"Not hungry. Very unappetizing burger too." Dean muttered distractedly as he turned the page on the book he was reading. </p><p>"How do you know it's unappetizing? You haven't even taken it out of the bag!" He said as he pushed the brown bag toward his brother. </p><p>"If it looks anything like what you just ate, I don't need to see it." </p><p>
  <em>You have got to be kidding me! This coming from the guy that eats just about anything? Some of the things he eats from gas stations are from questionable sources. </em>
</p><p> "Then at least eat the fries."</p><p> "Pass. "</p><p>"Dean, you need to eat. You can't just survive on beer."</p><p>"I'm pretty sure it can be done. Maybe someone already did and is in the Guinness World Records. "</p><p>"Doubtful. Come on Dean. Eat the burger, or the fries. Just eat something. You haven't been eating much lately."</p><p> "I said no, Mother. "</p><p>Sam growled low in his throat and snatch both beer and book from his hands. </p><p>"Hey! I was reading that. It was giving instructions on how to hypnotize someone and make them cluck like a chicken!"</p><p>Sam looked down at the book he had in his hand. "Unlocking the many mysteries of the mind." Sam read out loud. </p><p>"So, what do you say Sam, want to be my guinea pig? Want me to make you cluck like a chicken? Huh?"</p><p>Sam snorted and dropped the book on top of the pile he had already gone over."Eat your burger and fries, Dean."</p><p> "Bossy... "</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>His brother had given up a few minutes ago. Now he was flipping through channels on the television from his bed. </p><p>They both had gone through all the books they had taken from the public library. Dean had a lot of fun reading the book about dream interpretation. <em>Especially</em> Sigmund Freud's interpretation of dreams. Aside from some crazy ideas, they found nothing that could explain what has happening to them. The only thing they knew for sure was that it was supernatural in nature. He had decided to search a little longer, but still nothing. He turned off his laptop and closed it. Guess he'll joined his brother in channel surfing. </p><p>"Did you find anything?" Dean asked without looking at Sam. </p><p>"Nothing new."</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>The bodies of a man and a young child were found mauled to death in the park behind me early this morning. Both victims have been identified. The adult male was identified as Jerry Thomas, a long-time resident of—"</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"We'll continue tomorrow, when we're more rested." Dean said as he turned his head to look at Sam.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>The young victim identified as Micky Strauss was staying at the Starlit Motel.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"Yeah, you're right. Wish you had woken me at the time I told you to thought."</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>"Jerry, age fifty-six and Micky, age five were the victims of what seems to be the attack of a wild animal —"</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"Dude, you obviously needed sleep, I wasn't going to—" Dean stopped speaking abruptly, and turned his head to look at the TV screen again.</p><p>"Dean, wha—?" Sam started but his brother was staring hard at the TV, eyes wide and unblinking. Sam turned his head to look at the tv. </p><p>There was woman looking straight at the camera, a somber expression on her face. She points at something behind her and the camera follows and zooms in on what appears to be a dark, big spot(<em>blood</em>)on the ground. The camera then shifts back to the reporter. She's pretty, but Sam is more interested in the place behind her. It's a park...if you could call it that. There are three swings, a slide in need of replacement, a few trees, and one solitary bench off camera. He knows that park. He's been there, looking for lost little children. </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>"Jerry thomas was found with his throat torn open and disemboweled by what looked like a wild animal or animals. The attack happened some time during the night. We still don't know what Mr. Thomas was doing here in the park at that time. His body was discovered by police officers while they had been searching for a missing child. Micky Strauss went missing from the Starlit motel some time during the night. The frantic mother, Delilah, noticed her son missing early in the morning and she called the police immediately. Sadly, the child's body was found a few minutes after finding Mr. Thomas. The child was found in the meadow grass by a clump of trees on the other side of the park. He had also been mauled by what appears to have been the same wild animal. It seems the child was sleepwalking when he—" </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Micky..! Delilah..! Oh God..! </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>"Police are—"</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"No, it was a dream. Just a dream. You're the one with the vi—"</p><p> "Sam?"</p><p>
  <strong>"In<em> other news—"</em></strong>
</p><p>Sam turned to look at his brother. Dean looked pale, sick.</p><p>"Sam, what?"</p><p>Sam's chest was hitching and there was a burning itch behind his eyes.  </p><p>"Sam, wha—"</p><p>"That little boy—"</p><p>"What about him? "</p><p>"That's the little boy I helped looked for when he was sleepwalking. Micky.</p><p>"That's the one you told me about?"</p><p>"Yeah... Guess the sleepwalking wasn't a one time thing."</p><p>"Shit... I'm sorry."</p><p>Sam looked back at Dean. His brother's eyes were wide and wet looking. Another thought struck him. Something from the news had caught Dean's attention. Sam thought back to what the reported had been saying. A man had also been killed by a wild animal. His name...his name was.. His name was Jerry. </p><p>"Jerry. That's the man. He's the one you were dreaming about." Cold bumps ran up his arms, with that realization. </p><p>"You saw it. Jesus Christ, you saw it."</p><p>Dean's skin was ashen as he looked back into Sam's eyes.</p><p>His brother was shaking his head. "No, you—it's you the one with the psychic power. One Haley Joel Osment in the family is enough. There's got to be a logical explanation for this."</p><p>"I don't know about logical explanations, but I know this. I had never seen that man before the news. Not in dreams or visions. Only you. How? Why? And Micky, the one time I saw him was that same night you started sleepwalking and almost went out thet door listening to something out there. Micky, also, that had been his first time sleepwalking."</p><p>"No, Sam! Okay, just no." He was breathing fast and heavy and his lower lip trembled. With a shaking hand he lifted the control remote and turned off the TV. Sam wanted to say something, but it didn't take a psychic to know that anything he said right now could set off his brother. And Sam didn't want to be the thing his brother vented his frustration and anger on. </p><p>"I'm going to sleep. You should do the same."</p><p>"Dea—"</p><p>"Shut up, Sam."</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sam had been staring at the lump across from him for the past hour. What if Sam was not the only one? It was possible. Dean was his brother. Maybe it was a latent ability. The idea frightened him. Before he could worry more he, too, was asleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>Dreams had troubled his sleep, whether from Mickey's death or the things he had learned, he didn't know. It was barely going to be five and he felt wide awake. As he layed there in the darkness an idea started taking shape in his head. He wanted to see the bodies, the park. The town wasn't far. He could be back by the time Dean woke up. He really didn't want to take him. Not when Dean seemed to be at the center of this. Whatever this was.</p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sam was having a hard time fitting the key in the keyhole. He didn't know if it was from how badly his hand was shaking or because the tears blurred his vision. It was on his fifth attempt that he heard a click and the door opened wide revealing a very pissed of Dean. Not that he stayed pissed long, one look at Sam, and his pissed off expression morphed into one of worry.</p><p>"Sammy, hey, what's wrong?" Dean asked as he ushered him in and closed the door behind them. </p><p>"I could've saved him. Dean, I could've saved him." Dean moved him around to face him. </p><p>"Sam, what are you talking about? You could have saved who?"</p><p>"Micky. I could have saved Micky."</p><p>"It was a vision and I...I don't understand what happened. I didn't recognize it for what it was." Once Sam had seen the body of the little boy, Sam had recognized him. The curly hair, the gouged eyes, the missing—<em>Jesus..!</em></p><p>"Sammy you're making no sense. You didn't recognize what? Micky?"</p><p>"I didn't recognize Micky, or the hallucination or whatever it was. It was a fucking vision. Dean, it was a vision. Different from the others, but it had been a vision."</p><p>"How—how do you know? Sam, where were you. I texted you, called you and—"</p><p>"When I saw his body I immediately recognized him from the dream and vision." </p><p>"Wai—" </p><p>"I went to...I had to see. I had to see them. Jerry and Micky —"</p><p>"What?! You—you went without me?! Why? I would—"</p><p>"That's why. I didn't want you to go."</p><p>"Why?! I had a right to go!</p><p>"Jesus Christ, Dean!" Sam erupted. <em>Enough was enough!!!</em></p><p>"I was trying to protect you!"</p><p>"Protect me?! Protect me from what?!</p><p>
  <em>From yourself for starters!!!</em>
</p><p>"What do you mean from what? You're at the core of this, this, whatever the fuck this is! Do you really believe it was a coincidence that the same day you start sleepwalking, the only child staying in the motel starts sleepwalking? That the nightmares have gotten worse and now you have them nightly. How about the fact that you could possibly be possessed?! Oh and lets not forget the newest addition. You dreamt about Jerry, a man who lived in the town we had just been, but we never met before we saw him on the news. You saw and felt him die. And Jesus Christ Dean..! They put his death at around three. At the same time you were dreaming about him."</p><p>"Nooo... That's impossible..." Dean said shaking his head. </p><p>"I talked to his wife...she kicked him out if the house because he was drunk. And there was a dead dog at the park. It was a German Shepherd. And guess what?! Guess what?! The body seems to have vanished."</p><p>"I should've gone with you. You had no right—"</p><p>"You're not going back to that town."</p><p>"You can't tell me—"</p><p>"I just fucking did!" He scream and advanced on his brother. Dean flinched and took a step back. He seemed to realized what he just did, and glared up at Sam as he took two steps forward. </p><p>Sam took in his brother's sickly pale face, the dark circles and dull eyes, and his anger deflated like a pricked balloon. He took a step back, his shoulders hunched forward. "Damn it Dean..! I'm afraid."</p><p>"Sammy, you don't gave to. It's goin—"</p><p>Sam laughed humorlessly. "I'm afraid for you, Dean."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>............................................................................</p><p> </p><p>"You did what? Why?! Jesus Sam, you don't need to call dad for every little thing we come across and we can't solve quickly. You should've asked me first."</p><p>"You would have said no, Dean." </p><p>"Damn right I would've said no!"</p><p>"Look Dean," Sam says as they start making their way to the door. "this is beyond our capabilities. I can see that. And so can you! You are just too goddamn stubborn to accept it. I'm tired of seeing mutilated children in my nightmares and visions. I'm tired of seeing that dead little girl with the pigtails and pink slicker, and Micky and all those o—"</p><p>Dean jerked to a halt, grabbed his shirtsleeve, and spun him to face his wide eyes.</p><p>"What did you say?" He demanded. The color had drained from his face completely, and the hand gripping his sleeve was shaking badly.</p><p>"How do you know about Honey..?"</p>
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